


Prompt #4: "Come here. Let me fix it."

by Xylianna



Series: Xy's 100 Ways Challenge [15]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Post Game, Verse 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 14:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15997097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xylianna/pseuds/Xylianna
Summary: In a time of peace, Gladio is free to follow his heart (with a little urging from his friends).





	Prompt #4: "Come here. Let me fix it."

**Author's Note:**

  * For [banjkazfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/banjkazfan/gifts).



> This is largely un-edited, because I was feeling frustrated. My apologies for any errors. <3

Gladiolus Amicitia tugged irritably at the collar of his Kingsglaive uniform. He lingered in the foyer as if he could somehow miss the entire gala by the mere act of dawdling. It didn’t matter how many years he’d been trained for this - he’d endured this - he still had extremely little patience when it came to such things.

Squaring his shoulders and repressing an urge to summon his greatsword, Gladio strode into the ballroom, the sound of his booted feet completely eclipsed by the nine piece ensemble playing from one corner.

His eyes honed in on Noctis without fail; it was his duty, after all, to maintain preternatural awareness of his King’s location and safety. Seeing Cor at the Noct’s elbow, Gladio’s amber gaze shifted to scanning the room for potential threats. It wasn’t likely - guest lists were created carefully, all attendees vetted - but he wasn’t gonna be caught off guard.

Gladio saw Prompto dancing with Cindy and smiled. He’d given the chocobo hell years ago over his crush, but persistence - and a considerable amount of shared interests - had won out. They’d been married for going on five years now, and Prompto had partnered up to help Cindy run the garage in Hammerhead after Cid’s passing.

He saw Aranea skulking along the far wall and grinned. You could take the mercenary out of the war, but you couldn’t take away all the habits picked up through years of watching out for that next double-cross. Thankfully, her employment in service of Lucis had been far more honest than that of the Empire, and while Aranea didn’t seem inclined to ease up on her drills in the face of the natural aging process, Gladio suspected she slept better each night that ticked away since the Empire’s fall.

When he saw Ignis bustling through the massive room, hot on the heels of a harried looking caterer, he smirked. Some things never changed. The way he noticed how well Ignis’s trousers hugged the firm curve of his ass was just one of those unchangeable facts of life.

Duty first. Gladio turned towards the dais holding the thrones and approached. Stopping at the foot, he bowed deeply, holding position until the King’s command released him.

“Rise, Gladio,” Noctis said. The air of regal command suited him, Gladio thought. It’d taken some years to get him to stop greeting his old friends like… well, old friends… at state events, but Noctis wasn’t a green lad anymore, desperate to avoid the fate of his forebears. He was smart, politically savvy, and a king certain to go down in the annals for his generosity of spirit.

And for driving back the darkness and daemons. That too.

Gladio straightened and nodded to Cor, who nodded back curtly. The Marshall had never been one for words, and Gladio knew better than to verbally greet him while he was on duty. He offered a gallant bow to Noct’s wife where she sat on the other throne. Despite Gladio’s best efforts to get to know her over the last few years, she remained largely an enigma. A Galahdian refugee, it had caused near half the council to suffer apoplexy when Noctis announced his intention to wed her. But Gladio was pleased when, after the initial ‘but she’s not of noble blood’ objections had passed, the gentry supported their King.

Noct had sacrificed enough. Let him have some happiness.

The Queen’s belly was thick with child, and Gladio was pleased that she didn’t rise and attempt to curtsy. They may not be the best of friends, but they shared a strong sense of mutual respect and loyalty. That was enough. Gladio looked forward to meeting the next heir to Lucis, and decided he’d keep on trying to build a friendship with her.

Pleasantries completed, he stood to the side of the Queen’s throne in a mirror image of Cor’s stance, skimming his eyes over the crowd. After seven years of peace, everyone was in good spirits. His eyes glinted resentfully with the momentary thought that some forgot too quickly. But this was a party, and Gladio refused to give in to his morose thoughts despite his lack of desire to actually be here.

He wished they were out in Duscae around a cheerful campfire, swapping stories and ribbing Prompto for the way he scampered after Cindy like an eager pup. Longed to play King’s Knight into the wee hours, when the fire had burned to smoky embers and the sunrise caused the mesas on the horizon to appear lined with fire.

Gladio’s lips thinned into a tight line as he struggled to keep his face serene and at least give the outward appearance he was enjoying himself. He tried to focus on his friends and loved ones. He noted the flash of Prompto and Cindy’s bright blonde heads as they danced through the crowd. Glimpsed Iris dancing with Talcott, who appeared to finally be over with tripping over his tongue - and feet - when in the presence of the much-lauded Daemon Slayer. 

When he saw Ignis dancing with Aranea, his heart stuttered erratically, and a sensation uncomfortably akin to jealousy unfurled in his gut. Shit, Gladio knew Ignis was gay, so why be jealous?

_Because her hands are on him. Because she gets to dance with him._

_Because he’s never spared a second thought for me outside our duties._

“Ever gonna do something about it, big guy?” Noct’s voice, sly as a fox and crafty as his late father, broke through Gladio’s reverie.

“About what?”

Noctis rolled his eyes, and Gladio was taken back to the days when teenage Noctis would try and bypass homework in favor of more videogames. “Don’t make me spell it out for you.” The bite in his voice was belied by the compassion shining in azure eyes. “I think everyone knows _except_ Specs - somehow - so you may as well say something.”

“Ask him to dance,” the Queen suggested shyly. “Even I’ve seen the way you both steal glances when the other isn’t paying attention. He likes you too, Gladiolus. I know it.”

Startled by the unexpected vote of confidence, Gladio swallowed past the lump of anxiety threatening to choke him.

“Get it over with,” Cor added gruffly, and it was the perfect counterpoint to the Queen’s heartfelt speech. A grateful chuckle rumbled from Gladio’s chest, and he turned an irreverent grin on Noctis.

“By your leave, Majesty,” he said, rich bass voice wrapped in teasing tones.

“No big deal,” Noct said nonchalantly, waving a lazy hand.

With a final rueful shake of his head, Gladio strode down from the dais and crossed the crowded ballroom. He skillfully fended off the advances of what seemed like every eligible noblewoman - and a few noblemen - in Insomnia, and eventually made his way over to where Ignis and Aranea appeared deep in conversation, feet moving as nimbly as their minds.

He tapped Aranea’s shoulder, grinning, figuring she’d get a kick out of it. “May I cut in?”

Hard jade eyes softened as cherry lips twitched. “Be my guest,” she drawled in that husky voice of hers. “I need a drink.” Gladio watched her saunter away before turning his full attention to one Ignis Scientia.

“Gladiolus.” Ignis’s verdant gaze was a study in the serenity Gladio prayed was plastered across his own face.

“Hey, Iggy.” Gladio grinned crookedly. “Dance with me?”

Ignis scrutinized Gladio for a long moment, those piercing eyes seeming to tear through the walls Gladio had built up over the years to hide his true feelings. 

How was it that Ignis could study him so intently, yet not see a gods-damned thing?

Gladio swept Ignis into his arms and began to move, following the steps for the staid Altissian waltz without difficulty, save for the fact that they both tried to lead. They stopped and shared a mutual laugh, and the tension suffusing Gladio’s limbs drained away.

But then Ignis turned those gemstone eyes on his, emerald to topaz, and quirked one corner of those sinfully full lips in a wicked smirk.

“I’ll lead,” Ignis rasped. “Think you can keep up?”

His eyelids dipped flirtatiously, the sweep of lashes graceful against high cheekbones. Despite the femininity of the gesture, Gladio had no illusions on that score - Ignis was 100% man, praise the Six.

And he was flirting with Gladio.

“Bet your ass,” he retorted before allowing himself to be caught up in the dance once more. Ignis danced as gracefully as he did everything else - no shock there - and Gladio thought it was a fucking shame they’d waited this long to share one.

As they stepped and spun to the music, everything fell away but the man in his arms - the man in whose arms he was reverently cradled. Gladio’s eyes were locked irrevocably to Ignis’s, and he watched in fascination as the pupils contracted and then dilated, green reduced to a mere whisper.

“Gladiolus,” Ignis whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Erm,” a faint blush colored Ignis’s cheeks, “your… pants.”

Gladio was grateful his tan would hide most of the crimson staining his face as he realized he’d grown hard enough to cause a small tenting in his uniform pants. It wasn’t very noticeable… unless you stared.

_Iggy’s staring at my dick?_

The song ended, and Gladio stepped back from Ignis, folding his hands in front of his body to provide camouflage for his body’s natural reaction to being pressed against his crush.

“Come here. Let me fix it.” Ignis’s voice was sly and knowing.

It was an odd way to phrase it, but fuck if Gladio was gonna argue. But as they spilled out in the courtyard garden, Ignis’s hot mouth fused to his, Gladio pushed away. 

No. Not like this. Not like it meant nothing more than blowing off steam and going separate ways.

“Damn it, Ignis,” Gladio said quietly. “This isn’t what I want.”

Ignis quirked an eyebrow sardonically. “Isn’t it?” He slid a hand along Gladio’s body from sternum to navel. 

Gladio stepped back. “I’m not after some quick fuck in a stolen moment, yeah? You can’t be this stupid.” Gladio sighed, and decided _what the hell_. “I love you, Ignis. Have for years. Only you’re too blind to see it, even though all our friends do.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, disheveling his topknot. “And you think I want a quickie, right, just a little sex between friends to relieve som—”

He was cut off by Ignis’s kiss, but where the one before had been needy and sensual, this one was soft and tender. When they parted, Gladio couldn’t move, couldn’t make himself draw back. He felt the soft puff of Ignis’s exhalations against his wind-toughened skin and electricity sizzled along his spine.

“I love you too, Gladio.” Ignis smiled, looking more youthful than he’d ever allowed himself - been allowed - to be. “And I’m sorry it took me this long to admit it.”

“Then let’s make up for lost time,” Gladio said, taking Ignis’s hand in his and leading him to a carved marble bench.

They sat and talked until the sun rose, only halting the conversation so they could tend to their respective duties. The knowing smirk Noctis wore and the jubilant finger guns Prompto fired off were both worth it. Gladio would endure all this and more to finally have the love he’d kept himself from chasing all these long years.

Love was what mattered. If nothing else, the war taught him that.

And so Gladio never took a single day of it for granted. Not his newfound dynamic with Ignis, nor the deep bonds forged with Noctis and Prompto, and least of all the familial bond with Iris that nothing could tear asunder.

He was a rich man. And he was grateful.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Comments and kudos are love. <3
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://xylianna.tumblr.com/)


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